Bottomfeeder: Love and a Polish Sausage

Perfect Cup guarantees at least one.

Two down-on-their-heels dudes board the #174 bus near the intersection of Fourth & Michigan, bound for downtown on a chilly Thursday afternoon. These men, they quickly realize, have a lot in common. Both have been in the Army, served multiple prison terms, had their drivers' licenses suspended multiple times for multiple DUIs, been through caustic divorces in which alimony payments have served as a sticking point, and know their way around the public-assistance system. Another thing they've got in common is a love of Asian women. This becomes clear when the white guy in the pair begins talking about a four-year tour of Asia he did in the military. To these vets, Caucasian women are tantamount to the DIY car washes where you plug in quarters and work the foaming brush yourself, whereas Asian gals are the Pink Elephants of the world. The stop where this dynamic duo boarded the bus sits kitty-corner to Perfect Cup Espresso & Hot Dogs, housed in what looks to be a fifth wheel for circus dwarves. Situated near the driveway of a service-station parking lot, Perfect Cup also offers the Vietnamese hoagies commonly referred to as banh mi. Inside this fifth wheel for circus dwarves is a pretty Asian woman, the kind our Metro travelers would be sure to appreciate in the event that she'd take 'em back home and lather 'em up. Seeing as that would never happen in a million years, what they'd settle for instead is the most phallic of foods: Polish sausage. Washing down a large hot dog with a steaming cup of coffee makes me feel as though I should be ready to recite my next line on the set of Barney Miller. You might as well send a Save-the-Date card to your cardiologist and have a cigarette for dessert. Meanwhile, the banh mi, which I saved for lunch the next day, tasted like a cross between a Philly steak and the sort of banh mi I've become accustomed to procuring at the New Saigon Deli—banh mi as it was meant to be. But wouldn't you know it: The mashup wasn't half-bad. mseely@seattleweekly.com